Risks on the Job
by ShadowSong StarGlaive The Wolf
Summary: OneShot Where do the superheroesvillains repair and get costumes, makeup, and hair gel? It's all answered in here...


A/N Hello, and welcome to Shadowsong's first ever X-Men Evolution fic!

Okay, not all characters are in here, sorry. Dunno when this is set… after Tabitha was introduced and before she left. Okay?

I know in the Incredible (that Pixar movie) that Edna did the superhero costumes, but I had this idea when I read the Spider-Man comics before that movie came out. So here's my version.

Remember, it's FICTION. No, "That wouldn't work" or "That wouldn't really happen." Go with the flow, my dear readers!"

Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOTHING! Besides my writing. No, the government probably owns that. I own myself. Wait, I bet the government owns that too. Darn.

(Begin story)

Tim was an ordinary guy. He worked a nine to five job, drank coffee, and glared at the passing cars at six in the morning when he picked up his newspaper.

However, unlike most ordinary guys, Tim had an unusual job that required meeting the strangest clients.

"So, like, could I, like, have this done in an hour or so?" asked the pretty, chipper teenager girl in front of Tim. "Cause I got to go fight Magneto tonight before he tries to blow up the world."

"Sure thing, the waiting room-" Tim waved his hand towards a room off to the side of the reception desk, the tattered X-Man uniform in his hand.

"I know, yeah, thanks," she said, and walked into the waiting room.

Right through the wall.

However, Tim, used to such antics of his clients, merely picked up the phone and dialed the extension of the female superhero costume repairers in the building. "Yeah, Sue? Miss Kitty Pryde- yeah, Shadowcat- dropped off her uniform. We need a quick repair job." Taking a look at the ripped uniform, he amended, "Er, just get a new one from the other department." He put the wrecked spandex in a box on the floor under the desk used for such services. He'd distribute them later among the crazy fan girls (and boys) who wanted a "piece of a superhero.)

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a figure rushed up and started talking like a squirrel on Pixie Sticks. "Okay-I-need-the-fabric-I-used-last-time-for-this-and-could-I-have-a-cup-of-coffee-to-go?" The white-locked teen impatiently tapped his toes on the floor, a blue and white ragged costume in his arm. "I-got-to-go-aid-my-dad-in-conquering-the-world-tonight."

"Coffee's in the waiting room, Quicksilver," said Tim, taking the uniform and checking the fabric type. Reaching under his shiny, silver reception desk, he pulled out some blue and white fabric and handed it to the waiting superhe- villain. "Will that be all?"

"Do-you-have-any-more-hair-gel?" asked Quicksilver/Pietro, stroking back his white tresses with admiration, then zipping off to the waiting room, grabbing a cup of someone's coffee (it took too long to get his own) and whooshed back, all in about a nanosecond.

"Second isle to the left," said Tim, eyes slightly widening at the figure walking in next. "Hello, Mr. Hulk. And how are we today?"

"Hulk need new shorts," growled the giant green monstrosity.

"And Hulk- I mean, you- will get new ones," stammered Tim. He doubted the taser he had under his desk for overly-testy clients would work on Bruce-Banner-Gone-Bad. Quickly dialing the number to the male super villain costume department, he said swiftly into the phone, "Hulk over here, new shorts- yes, neon purple- stat!" He smiled weakly at the glaring emerald radioactivized man. "In a second-"

"Hulk want new shorts NOW!" he roared.

"Well someone needs a nap," muttered Pietro unhelpfully from the hair gel isle in the small area dedicated to some superhero/villain needs, such as ribbons, gloves, hair products and makeup.

At that moment a little girl with wings flew up and gave the new shorts to the frightened Tim, who gingerly handed them over to Hulk, who grabbed them and nearly ripped off Tim's hand. Stomping out of the reception area of the Superhero/villain Costume Boutique, smashing a lamp hanging from the ceiling, the Hulk made his grand exit.

"Great," muttered Tim. "MORE repairs."

Just then, another person- this time a little boy with wings- came out of the revolving doors that lead into the main part of the factory that made the costumes. He was holding a light blue and white uniform. "Miss Mystique, your outfit is ready!"

"About time!" snapped the blue-skinned mutant, walking out of the reception room looking like she was about ready to maim someone. "And it's lemon scented?"

"Of course, Miss Mystique!" said the little boy. She snatched the repaired uniform away and walked out just as another figure walked in.

"Could you just polish up this helmet?" asked Magneto, handing over the red and black metal mind shield. "And maybe add some cinnamon scenting." He tapped his hand on the metal desk and accidentally warped it. "Oops."

"No problem, Mr. Magneto," said Tim, wondering if his insurance would cover all the damage caused to the Boutique. Taking out the cinnamon spray, he squirted it twice and began to buff it with a cloth. In a moment, it was incredibly shiny and fresh smelling. "Have a nice world domination, Mr. Magneto."

Tipping his head to the young boy, the Master of Magnetism walked out of the building, causing some people in the waiting room to look out. Tim simply ignored them and tried to fix the now-twisted desktop, pondering on how he got in this position…

About a year ago, Tim had been lurking around his local comic-book shop which he frequented when he was approached by the manager.

"Say, young man, do you have a job?" asked the kindly store owner, Mr. Pyrus.

"Uh, no, I don't," replied Tim, wondering what was going on.

"Well, I have an interesting proposition for you. You'll get to meet lots of famous people with this job, do… unique things, see new technology. What do you say? The pay's not great but the benefits are wonderful. Especially the life insurance!"

"Why would I need life insurance with this job?" asked Tim nervously.

"You'll learn later. What do you say?" smiled Mr. Pyrus.

"Uh, sure. I guess I need to start paying off my college debt." Having a degree in tailoring and business, he was fresh out of college and shared a small apartment with a friend. Perhaps this would give him a boost.

"Great! Meet me at the old abandoned warehouse on El Marv Street tomorrow at 9 o'clock." With that, Mr. Pyrus waved and let Tim continue his browsing.

So the next day Tim stood outside the crumbling warehouse, wondering what in the name of all that was holy was going on when he heard an explosion.

"Wonderful, death on the job and I haven't even started," moaned Tim, a pessimist at times.

"Oops! They'll clean that up later!" giggled a young female voice.

"Tabby, you're not supposed to blow stuff up! The professor warned you!" said a more mature voice. "Now I have to convince this guy a car backfired."

"Like it's a terrible toll on you, Jean," said a perky, younger voice. "Hey! Look! It's Lance and the rest of the Brotherhood!"

"Didn't we tell you not to flirt with the enemy, Kitty?" said the first voice. "Hey Pietro! You cute thing you!"

"What's going on?" freaked Tim, whipping around, and saw a rather strange sight.

Walking around the corner were two teenage girls, with waves of red hair and the other with blonde styled hair were shaking their heads at another girl with a petit figure and ponytail giggling at something a tall, handsome older boy had said. Behind him was an enormous boy, short, greasy haired boy, and arrogant-faced white-tressed boy.

"So were getting our uniforms repaired. What are you doing here, Lance?" she said, smiling up at him.

"Just the same, Kitty," he said to her, lifting a bag with the zipper bulging. "Pietro, you can stop making barfing noises now."

"I honestly can't help it!" said the patronizing-looking boy.

"Whatever, let's go," sighed Kitty, grabbing Lance's arm and jumping through the side of the building.

Tim blinked.

"Oh no!" cried the red head. "This guy here just saw Kitty phase through the wall!"

"Actually, I'm here for a job. Mr. Pyrus sent me here…" he trailed off, hoping these girls and boys would help him.

"Oh, so he's the new receptionist!" nodded the small, frog-like boy. "Do you think he'll last as long as the old one, Freddy?"

"Doubt it," said the huge boy next to him. "Wow, he looks scared. Todd, go welcome him."

"AHHH!" cried Tim, getting a whiff of the boy's smell, and rushed into the building.

And walked smack into a tall, muscled man with an enormous red helmet on. The man grunted and looked down at Tim with angry eyes.

"Uh-oh," giggled the blonde girl . "You upset the Juggernaut!"

After a few day in the hospital and some insurance paperwork, Tim went back to work as a receptionist and superhero costume repairman.

Someday were eventful- for instance, before a battle or after- and some days were just slow. The pay was good, the benefits good, and the job risk only came when he had clients.

"Hulk got wrong color shorts!" bellowed an angry voice as the large being stomped back into the lobby some more.

Some clients more than others.

(End Risks on the Job)

A/N Well? Awful? Okay? Interesting?

Well, no nitpicking, like "The Hulk was never in Evo!" or anything. I'm sure he was in some of the comics. Just accept it and move on. Okay?

Read, relish, review!


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